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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29121228">Choices</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfrog/pseuds/writingfrog'>writingfrog</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>RWBY</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Post-Volume 5 (RWBY), Raven is a bad mom, Shitty Family Dynamics, Vernal deserved better, Yangst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:43:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>547</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29121228</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfrog/pseuds/writingfrog</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>What would I have left if I stopped protecting myself?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Choices</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div>
  <p>Desolation behind me. Stillness before me. The poor girl dead at my feet, all by my design. I hope you never come to understand how I feel in this moment, even if that’s a foolish hope. The desert shimmers, inviting and impossible. I take a step.</p>
  <p>Your voice stops me.</p>
  <p>There you stand, shaking, a jarring space where your left arm should be. I noticed the prosthetic when you found me in the forest, but it’s been lost in the melee above. That empty space draws my eyes as we circle each other. What happened to you, little spitfire? You’ve been hurt in more ways than one. Who gave you such sharp edges? I almost ask, but bitterness is easier. You’ve never been mine, after all. And now I doubt you ever will be. You tell me that you’re afraid, but you won’t give in to the fear. You won’t let it rule you. You’ll do the right thing. </p>
  <p>Clearly, you haven’t learned yet just how subjective the right thing can be.</p>
  <p>I’ve heard versions of this speech before. From your uncle, of course. (He’s looking unwell, as ever. Tragic that he’ll never realize how much the straight and narrow disagrees with him.) And from your father. You resemble him so much, you know. Your eyes hold his kindness and his steel. You look at me with that same painful combination of longing and disappointment. I never could live up to all the stories everyone told themselves about me.</p>
  <p>It all comes spilling out. The truth, at long last. I can tell it’s too little too late. I’m not getting through to you. Do you think I’m a monster? It doesn’t matter. I’m alive. And the relic--</p>
  <p>You tell me that you will take it. You already know me well enough to understand, even before I do, that I will let you.</p>
  <p>When the tears come, I don’t fight them. We will both be hunted with renewed vigor now. It never ends. I should have made you leave, should have insisted on taking the relic, on keeping that burden from you. But what would I have left if I stopped protecting myself?</p>
  <p>There are no good choices. Just choices.</p>
  <p>I tell you that I’m sorry, although I’m not sure what for. You turn your back on me and walk forward into the silent desert.</p>
  <p>I take flight, but I don’t find the open air just yet. Instead I hide myself in the shadows of the cavern roof. I have no way to measure time in this unchanging dark, but it feels like an eternity passes before you stagger back through the door. Now that you think you’re alone, your shoulders slump, and the rock echoes with your sobs. I watch you go without revealing myself. You will find comfort with whoever still survives above. You’re one of them, and I can do nothing for you. Will you keep my secret, little spitfire? It’s our secret now. A final thread that still binds us together.</p>
  <p>I drift down to crouch beside the girl, my poor, beautiful decoy, and I gently close her eyes. She deserves more, after all she’s done for me, but this is what I have time for. There is still so much left to do.</p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I haven't written fanfic since 2010 and may never write another one but this just came out of me in a fugue state so I hope you liked it. If you think my writing is cool look out for my novel in....idk, maybe a decade? Maybe never? I have ADHD. Anyway uhh thank you and goodnight :-)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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